


Much Ado About Mistletoe

by deduce-my-heart (linds7)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: ;-), Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Budding Love, Cheesy, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Holidays, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe, Misunderstandings, POV John Watson, Pining John, Pre-Slash, holiday fic, huge avalanche of awkwardness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:32:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2806166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linds7/pseuds/deduce-my-heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John discovers mistletoe in the flat and assumes Mrs. Hudson is the one who put it there ;-)</p><p>This is a Christmas gift for my lovelies Wanda, Naomi, and Erin. I love you all so much!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Much Ado About Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IamJohnLocked4life](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IamJohnLocked4life/gifts), [il0vedaydreaming](https://archiveofourown.org/users/il0vedaydreaming/gifts), [bookaddled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookaddled/gifts).



John chuckled when he saw it. Hanging above his chair, plain as day as if it belonged there, was a sprig of mistletoe. Mrs. Hudson must have been in while he was having a wash, and John looked around expectantly for the telltale signs of cleaning or perhaps some fresh tea and biscuits. Seeing none, John sighed in disappointment as he made his way to the kitchen to try and rustle up something to eat before leaving the flat. He started opening the cupboards absent mindedly, still thinking about the mistletoe and he smiled to himself. He really should have a talk with her. Really. John was fully aware Mrs. Hudson still thought (hoped) that he and Sherlock were a couple. It was hard to miss her knowing smiles or little comments alluding to their happy domesticity…but the mistletoe was a bit much. John had stopped reminding her that they weren’t a couple, taking Sherlock’s example of complete silence whenever she brought it up. What harm was there, anyhow, if Mrs. Hudson wanted to believe that they were boyfriends? Besides, it never seemed to bother Sherlock that just about everyone seemed to think so. In fact, often times Sherlock seemed borderline upset that John cared so much about what people thought.

Just as John gave up his search for food, he heard Sherlock emerge from his room, sleeping in as always when there wasn’t a case. The man flounced into the kitchen with his dark hair wild from sleeping and wearing his cotton pajamas and silk robe. He plopped himself down at his microscope, declaring with a huff, “John, I’m BORED.” John groaned inwardly, knowing what that meant. Whenever too much time elapsed between cases, Sherlock became harder and harder to live with, and it was as if he expected John to entertain him like a child. Well, today, John had much to do. Christmas was just around the corner and he hadn’t even begun to do any shopping. He hated it and always put it off until the last minute.

“Sorry Sherlock, you’re on your own today. If I don’t do the shopping now, it’ll never get done.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Don’t be tedious John. I need you _here_.”

It was John’s turn to roll his eyes but he did so with a smile, “You do not. You’re a big boy and will have to think of something to entertain yourself with this time, anything at all.” After a moment’s thought, John quickly added, “As long as it doesn't involve guns or drugs or explosions! I’m warning you Sherlock, I won’t go easy on you this time! I will definitely call your brother and you and I both don’t want that now do we?”

Sherlock looked at him sharply, and asked slowly, “Do you mean that?”

“Of course I mean it! I won’t tolerate you harming yourself or potentially others just because you’re bored! God Sherlock, you are a handful sometimes! I can’t ALWAYS be here. I do have a life and responsibilities that don’t involve me following you around like your personal puppy!” John took a deep breath at the end of this speech, immediately frustrated with himself for becoming irritated so easily. Sherlock had stiffened a bit at his outburst, and John felt guilty.

“Sherlock, I’m sorry, really. I enjoy your company, you know I do. The cases we go on are exciting, and spending time with you…is invigorating. But I just wish you understood that I have a life too.”

Sherlock sighed. “No, I mean you don’t mind what I do then…as long as it doesn't involve those three things? Anything else is…fine?” Sherlock had stood up and taken a step closer to John while saying this, staring at him with piercing eyes that never failed to capture John’s full attention, and for a moment John forgot what they were even talking about. His pulse fluttered a bit as he unconsciously licked his lips until Sherlock’s eyes darted down to his mouth, and he abruptly stopped and held his breath. The room was now charged with electricity, and John was at a loss yet again as to how it happened. They were having a simple conversation one moment and then all at once they were lost in each other’s eyes. John shook himself mentally and finally looked away, annoyed at himself that after all this time, he _still_ felt something for his flatmate. Sherlock merely stepped around him and began making tea.

“Fine. Go if you must. I’ll just be here NOT shooting up the wall or my arm. Perhaps I will finish looking at the blood samples or do some decorating. You know, for Christmas and all that.”

John stood there in a bit of shock. “YOU, decorating? What’s come over you!?” John laughed and shook his head. Really, the very idea of Sherlock decorating the flat for Christmas amused and oddly warmed his heart. “Well, Mrs. Hudson already started on that. I’m sure you saw the mistletoe above my chair.”

Sherlock put the kettle on the stove and turned to John, raising his eyebrow. “Mrs. Hudson?”

“Yeah, you mean you didn’t notice? It’s right there…and you say I don’t observe!” John smiled teasingly at Sherlock. “She must have left it when I was in the washroom.”

Sherlock suddenly became busy, looking through the fridge and selecting several vials of blood and other body fluids found at the last crime scene. “Well, be off with you then. As you can see I’m busy and you’re just stalling now. And no, that new jumper will not persuade the cashier from the corner clothing store to go out with you, though your jeans do fit you nicely. She has found a boyfriend since last you saw her.” Sherlock retreated into his own mind after he said this, and began staring intently into his microscope, seemingly forgetting John’s presence.

John never ceased to be amazed at how Sherlock could just know things or seemingly read his mind. How could he possibly know about the girl at the shop? This thought again made him uncomfortable. What else could he tell, just by looking at John? It would not do to have Sherlock know his thoughts…not do at all. With a slight blush, and a quick “Shut it” he grabbed his coat and was off.

After several hours of fruitless wandering, John finally found a few items that he thought his sister and Lestrade might like. He had even found a new scarf for Molly. For Mrs. Hudson he bought a warm lap blanket with embroidered flowers on it. Sherlock was the hardest to buy for. He spent a full hour just looking from shop to shop for something that he might possibly want or need. He paused for a while outside a pet store, smiling in at the puppies playing in the window. John wondered briefly how Sherlock would react if he walked into the flat with one of them in a huge red bow. He shook his head at the idea, and continued walking. He was pretty confident that Sherlock would only be annoyed at having an animal in the flat. He couldn’t imagine Sherlock wanting to hold or pet it…or give it hugs and kisses. John felt a slight pain in his chest as he reminded himself, yet again, that his closest friend just didn’t feel things that way. Life was straightforward for Sherlock, full of cold, hard, facts, and emotion and affection didn’t really have any place in his life.

John knew Sherlock cared for him, of course he did. He wasn’t heartless. John had just come to realize that he wasn’t interested much in relationships or expressing any emotion beyond the excitement for a case, irritation at the stupidity of others, or boredom. As John walked down the street, it had begun to snow lightly, and he smiled sadly, wishing he had someone to walk with, hand in hand. Someone who would appreciate the romance of the moment. Christmas was John’s favorite holiday, and he rarely got to spend it with a romantic partner. He hadn’t dated much since Sherlock, and the few attempts he had made always ended quickly and badly.

There wasn’t much doubt in John’s mind as to why this was. He cleared his throat and began walking with new determination. He would absolutely not allow himself these painful, wishful thoughts anymore. He needed to move on for god’s sake. Pining for a man who merely saw him as a colleague would crush him eventually. Yes, he was important to Sherlock…but just as someone who relieved his boredom and listened to his endless stream of consciousness. And yes they occasionally watched telly or played board games together, and of course ate dinner with each other….OK basically they lived and did almost everything together….god his whole life really did revolve around Sherlock. Even as he thought this, his mobile chirped. Looking down he saw a text from Sherlock.

_We’re out of milk. –SH_

_Then buy some. I’m not at the grocery store. And I’m not your errand boy._

_I’m busy. And you’re already out. –SH_

_Besides. You’ve been gone for ages. If you haven’t found gifts for everyone on your list yet (me) it’s hopeless. Give up and come home. –SH_

John stopped and stared at his phone. Sherlock was impossible sometimes, but at least he was fully aware of it. It was really funny to John that Sherlock realized how hard he was to buy for, and it made him smile. Well, John supposed he might as well call it a day like Sherlock suggested. Maybe tomorrow he will have a fresh idea of what to get him.

John finally arrived back at the flat, weary and with presents and milk in tow. As he walked up the steps, he could swear he smelled fresh pine needles and could faintly hear violin music. He quickly took the rest of the stairs two at a time and opened the door to their flat. The sight that greeted him made his eyes nearly pop out and his jaw drop to the floor. There were soft, glowing blue lights hanging across the fireplace mantle with two stockings hanging above the fireplace as well. Johns attention paused there for a stunned moment, taking in the personalized embroidery, _SH_ on one and _JW_ on the other. And they were filled with something that looked like candy. After several seconds of shock passed, he continued to look around the flat and nearly jumped at the Blue Spruce standing tall in the corner. A real tree. With an angel on top and decorated with tinsel and white lights and multicolored bulbs. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and John felt as if he had walked into another dimension. His eyes finally landed on Sherlock himself, who stood by the window, facing outside and wearing antlers as he played John’s favorite Christmas carol.

John forgot to close the door or to move. He stood there frozen, eyes fixed on Sherlock, as the melody washed over him in waves. He didn’t even realize that the mistletoe above his favorite chair had multiplied throughout the flat or that he was in fact standing under one at the door.

Sherlock, always the showman, finished playing with a flourish of his arm, and he whirled around and faced John.

“Oh good, you got the milk. It will go perfectly with the cookies.” Sherlock gently put down his violin and walked over to John, who still seemed to be having trouble with the English language and with breathing. Sherlock looked at him for a moment, eyebrows raised. “Problem?”

John blinked up at Sherlock several times, finally exhaling a long held breath and faintly said, “Sherlock…what the bloody hell is all this?” He tore his eyes away from the man and again took in the decorated flat.

Sherlock smirked and John quickly looked at him again. “John, I thought it was fairly obvious. It’s almost Christmas and I decorated.”

“Yes but…but look at the place! And you’re wearing antlers for god’s sake!”

“You don’t like the antlers?” Sherlock actually looked dismayed. John’s mind was in a whirl of _what the fuck_.

“Mrs. Hudson assured me you would like the antlers.” Sherlock hummed and pursed his lips in irritation.

“Oh so this is Mrs. Hudson’s doing then? She’s behind all this? Ah, OK that makes much more sense.” John chuckled and sighed in odd relief, feeling as though he could feel his legs again. He stepped around Sherlock (and away from the mistletoe) and put the gifts on the table and the milk in the fridge. He didn’t realize that Sherlock followed him all the way to the fridge until he turned around and almost walked into him. John jumped back and gasped. “Jesus Sherlock, you startled me. Um, why are you crowding me?”

Sherlock looked upset for some reason and he huffed a short annoyed breath through his nose. “I’ll have you know that this was NOT Mrs. Hudson. It was my idea. I wanted to decorate. For you. Because I know how much you like this holiday. And that tree was a pain in the arse to carry up the steps so I refuse to let anyone else get the credit for it.”

At this Sherlock whirled around and stalked over to the couch, throwing himself on it facing away from John. John stood in the kitchen for a moment, processing everything Sherlock had just said. He honestly couldn’t believe it. He was looking at the evidence, listening to the words coming out of Sherlock’s mouth, but he still had trouble accepting it. It just didn’t make any sense! If it was anyone else, John would have thought it was the sweetest gesture, romantic even. But this was Sherlock! Why would he do this? For an experiment? Or maybe he was really just that bored? As he mulled it over in his head, he noticed the mistletoe in the kitchen. His eyes widened as he walked over to it. There it was, above the spot he always stands when he is making his tea. He then glanced around and saw more above the fridge and stove. He walked over towards the door and finally saw the one he had been standing under when he first came in. And even now, there was one above the couch where Sherlock currently sulked.

John gulped and his mouth went dry. Did Sherlock know what the mistletoe meant? Maybe he had no idea! Could he think it was just a random Christmas decoration? Did Mrs. Hudson tell him? If this was all her idea, he was going to have a stern talk with her. Didn’t she know how hard this was for him? Didn’t she realize how much he longed for Sherlock _that way_ , yet couldn’t have him? John flexed his hand as other thoughts entered his mind…pleasant ones….thoughts of moist kisses and soft touches. John closed his eyes and for a moment, allowed himself to fantasize holding Sherlock close, feeling his warm skin against his, looking up with open desire into those large, beautiful eyes.

John cleared his throat and entered the living room. Trying to keep a grasp on reality, he spoke gently to Sherlock. Once Sherlock was in one of his moods, it was hard to get him out of it, but he hoped he could mollify the offended detective. “Sherlock, look I’m sorry. It’s very beautiful. All of it. I was just…very surprised that’s all. I love it though. I just…didn’t understand why, well…I still don’t, but it was very nice of you to do. And the antlers…are cute. Please don’t be angry with me?”

Sherlock huffed again at the back of the couch. And John stood there awkwardly for a moment, wondering what he should do or how he could fix this, when Sherlock suddenly sprung up from the couch. John took a surprised step back. Sherlock was looking at him strangely, as if he was trying to deduce something about him.

“So you do…in fact…think the antlers, cute?” John huffed out a laugh in surprise. Out of everything he just said, _that_ was what got Sherlock’s attention. Sherlock stood there next to the couch, looking at John with hesitation and what seemed to be a bit of insecurity. Immediately John regretted laughing and softened in an instant. He found himself wanting to reassure Sherlock somehow.

John wasn't sure what to say and ended up stammering a reply while blushing. “Well, yeah. I mean, sure, they are. Cute. They look cute on you.”

As soon as he said it, Sherlock’s face broke out into a huge smile, the kind of which John rarely saw. It was genuine and warm, and John felt himself melting under its brilliance. He couldn’t help but stare at Sherlock’s lips, desire evident on his face. God he wanted to taste them, to feel them against his own. Sherlock went completely still and was suddenly standing very close to John, his warm breath a caress on his cheek. He finally managed to rip his eyes away from Sherlock’s mouth with extreme difficulty, and when their eyes met again, John thought he saw something there that he had not noticed before, a look of longing that matched his own. Then Sherlock looked up above his head at the mistletoe, and then back at John. His face held an expectant look, as if he hoped John would do something...holy mother of god did Sherlock actually want to be kissed?!

John felt dazed and unsteady, like he was falling from a great height. He slowly leaned in closer to Sherlock, carefully watching his reaction to see if this was really and truly what he wanted. Sherlock held steady, even leaned down a bit so John could reach better. After a few more moments of hesitation and a quick searching glance into Sherlock’s wide eyes, he leaned the rest of the way and gently kissed his lips, both of them keeping their eyes open. It was a light, short, experimental kiss. John immediately stood back and waited for Sherlock’s reaction.

Sherlock’s tongue darted out, tasting his lips, and he had a thoughtful expression on his face. John decided then and there that they really needed to discuss this before it went any further.

“Sherlock….did you really put all the mistletoe around the flat because you wanted to…want to kiss me? I mean, is that what you intended by it?”

Sherlock gave a small smile and whispered “obviously” while reaching for John again, but John stepped back, beginning to feel a little bit frustrated.

“Well, it wasn’t ‘obvious’ to me! How long has this been going on? And do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that? How painful it’s been for me, to go day in and day out wishing to kiss you, to have you, and not be able to?” Tears were spilling down John’s cheek now and he gasped, covering his mouth with his hand. “Oh…Oh god….” John was horrified at what he had just admitted…humiliated by the emotions he was showing. He hated crying in front of anyone, especially Sherlock. He was so overwhelmed by the little kiss and by all of this… the mistletoe and the beautiful Christmas decorations…that he was caught off guard, speaking more freely than he ought. He couldn’t believe that he just admitted to wanting to _have_ Sherlock. He closed his eyes and counted to five slowly, trying vainly to regain his composure and maybe just a little of his dignity. Sherlock looked at him calmly, silently.

When John risked a glance up at him, he was surprised by the gentle, loving look in Sherlock’s eyes. Sherlock reached for him again, tentatively putting his arms around John, pulling him carefully to himself. John’s body tensed for just a moment before melting into the warm embrace. He buried his head in Sherlock’s neck and wrapped his own arms around him. If this was a dream, John desperately hoped to never wake. He tightened his hold, suddenly afraid that it would all suddenly be over and they would go back to the way it was before, with nothing but heated gazes across the wide expanse that separated them.

After a while, John felt more himself and again felt the need to talk to Sherlock about what all of this meant for them. John slowly untangled himself, and looked back up at Sherlock, and this time he smiled. “God Sherlock, you sure are full of surprises, aren’t you? Let’s have some tea and I’ll order Chinese. Then I’ve got some questions that need answered before we…continue…whatever this is.”

Sherlock sighed impatiently. “John, I just want to kiss you and be with you always. There’s nothing else really to discuss. Yes, I’m aware you are…attracted to me. I’ve realized for quite some time, and after much consideration, I have decided that this is what I want as well. I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me, and you never did. So I thought, if I put mistletoe in the flat, maybe you finally would. But even then, you assumed it was Mrs. Hudson. This is becoming very tedious, and I would greatly appreciate it if we could skip the talking and just kiss already.”

John’s eyes widened. “But Sherlock, you told me you were married to your work! I thought you weren’t interested!”

“John, that was almost two years ago. I don’t feel that way anymore. The work…yes it’s important to me, always will be, but it comes second now. Actually, it’s been you, John Watson, for quite some time now, only, it took me a very long time to realize this.” Sherlock took a deep breath. “Forgive me? I never meant to cause you pain.”

John was the one to grin now, a shit eating grin from ear to ear. His heart felt giddy and without thinking he lunged himself into Sherlock’s arms, causing the detective to gasp in shock and fall back onto the couch. John landed on top of him, and after a moment of confusion, they looked into each other’s eyes and laughed. It ended quickly though, because John couldn’t control his passion any longer, he had heard with his own ears that Sherlock wanted him back, wanted to kiss and….hopefully more.

John gently caressed Sherlock’s cheek and allowed his body to sink into Sherlock’s, his pulse racing at this sudden full body contact. He captured Sherlock’s lips with his own without further ado, giving the detective his first, true kiss. This kiss was not hesitant or quick but slow and sensual, John finally allowing himself to indulge in his favorite fantasy. Sherlock moaned quietly underneath him, as John slowly coaxed his mouth open with a persistent tongue, slipping inside Sherlock to taste and drink of him fully. Their tongues met and danced together, John continually chasing Sherlock’s back into his mouth for more. Some time later, he pulled back for air and noticed Sherlock gasping.

“Oh love, I’m sorry,” he murmured as he slowly licked a path up Sherlock’s neck. Sherlock whimpered and seemed to like it, so he did it again on the other side, ending with his lips and tongue swirling around Sherlock’s Adam’s apple. He paused there to suck a moment, before leaning up to kiss Sherlock’s cheek, and then his nose and eyes. “God, you are so gorgeous. I’m afraid I might lose control with you. Please, tell me if I am going too fast, or if you can’t breath for god’s sake” John chuckled, and Sherlock merely nodded and pulled him back down for more.

Sherlock was slowly opening up and becoming more urgent, and John gasped when he felt him begin to rub himself against his body….his hips rising to meet John’s in an intimate hello. It was John’s turn to have trouble breathing, so overwhelmed with sensation was he. Sherlock also seemed lost, unconscious of the lurid actions his body was doing. Sherlock began to find a rhythm, desperately trying to find more friction where he needed it most. John groaned and gave in, allowing himself to grind slowly down against Sherlock, their breathing becoming labored as they continued to lick and suck at each other’s mouths.

John’s hands began to roam. Sherlock’s robe had all but fell off of him, and all that separated him from Sherlock’s beautiful skin was a thin layer of cotton. John’s hand was rubbing small circles on Sherlock’s belly over his shirt, while his other hand slowly traveled from Sherlock’s thigh to his chest and back again, when he slowly reached beneath the hem to touch his stomach directly, Sherlock hissed in a breath and John stilled immediately.

“Sh..ahh..Sherlock, is this OK? May I…mmm may I touch you? Sherlock. Oh god, Sherlock, may I have you?” He moaned again as Sherlock continually rubbed against his crotch. John’s whole body felt like it was on fire and he could hardly form words. But he had to have permission. Sherlock had only mentioned kissing, and this had progressed way past that. As amorous as Sherlock was acting, there was a hesitancy and a clumsy fumbling that, endearing as it was, spoke of inexperience. If this was Sherlock’s first time, it should not be on the couch, his first shared orgasm should be slow and sweet, and in John’s bed. John wanted to make love to Sherlock properly, so as hard as it was for him to do, he let go and started to sit up.

Sherlock was immediately against the idea. “John. Nonononono. Come back. John” His long arms proved difficult to escape, and John was amazed at how strong Sherlock was. “Mmmm John, kiss me.” John fell back down against Sherlock and was kissing him deeply and moaning for several more minutes before he remembered his plan and that he still needed permission.

“Sherlock, listen to me. Oh yes, I love that…god. Your lips are delicious, I could kiss you all night. But listen. Is that all you want? Which is fine, more than fine, I am beyond happy right now. Or did you want to go further….” John hesitated a moment before finally asking, “Can I take you to my bed?”

Sherlock stilled, finally paying attention to the words John was speaking. John watched as several emotions flitted across Sherlock’s face: desire, uncertainty, curiosity. Finally, Sherlock nodded his consent.

John’s heart leaped, but he had to be sure. “Sherlock, what would you like? What are you saying yes too, exactly?”

At this Sherlock indelicately snorted his impatience and sat himself up on the couch. “John, I am not a wilting flower. I want you, all of you. I want to know what you look like under those ridiculous jumpers. I want to kiss you all over, and I want you to kiss me everywhere also. I want to have sex. With you. Now.” A mischievous glint lighted Sherlock’s eyes as he added, “Or do I need to wrap myself up in mistletoe and lay naked on your bed before you take the hint?”

John chuckled and leaned in to nip at Sherlock’s neck. “Actually, that sounds like the sexiest thing I've ever heard….why didn't you do that ages ago? We could have avoided a lot of confusion that way.” He stood and grabbed the mistletoe above their head, and affectionately put it behind Sherlock’s ear. “There. Now let’s go love, we've got some exploring to do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you liked it!! :D It was a lot of fun to write!
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr! [deduce-my-heart](http://deduce-my-heart.tumblr.com/)


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